Seeing White
by tokenkinesis
Summary: Once completing the quest Hands of Healing, White Mages are rewarded their final spell skill and the honor of venturing forth to conquer the strongest threats to Eorzea. One Black Mage wishes to pursue glory and be part of the next generation of adventurers to save the realm once more! His only quandary is the discipline he chose. Or rather, the one he didn't.
1. Entry 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Half-Boiled Hero, Entry #1**

"'Ey, boy. What ar' ye on about?"

The Hyur driving the wagon jarred me from my reverie. He looked back from his seat not minding the packed dirt road in front of him. The chocobo must have had some sense of it for the large foul's slow gait came to a halt.

I must have been speaking to myself. I did not give the chauffer any other reason to single me out of the handful of travelers that purchased passage on this craft. A quick look around confirmed my suspicion for every other passenger had slowly shifted away from where I sat.

Before I started my journey I was warned that Au'Ra were rarely seen around Eorzea and in fact that outside of Ishgard, few had ever heard of us let alone knew what we looked like. I had kept to myself once I teleported right outside of Limsa into Western La Noscea. My mentor told me to ride a passenger craft to Limsa Lominsa and observe the beautiful scenery. He even advised against a porter. It seemed like a waste of time. It also seemed that his sense of 'beauty' was just the same as his sense of 'different'.

At the thought of my mentor I reminded myself that ignoring the driver's question was of ill-form and even if my hood was drawn up enough to hide my scales and horns, my lack of decorum would give me away.

"I seek apprenticeship from one of The Final Witnesses," I firmly believed in honestly above all things and prayed to Hydaelyn that it would blossom in my favor.

There was a silence long enough for me to count on my claws.

"Mmm, I only e'er seen two Masters in Limsa. One of them ain't too keen of yer kind. The learnin' type that is. An' the other, well on a'count of yer mumblin' may not be too keen on ya either. The Th'maturge type that is."

"I am a Black Mage, I have not practiced as a Thaumaturge since I was a boy." My credentials should have been enough for the Hyur to assume that I was at the very least. The staff on my back should have given him pause, certainly confirmation that I was not just any adventurer. Created from the remains of the Miser's Mistress, my Verdant Scepter was my prize for cleansing Aurum Vale.

But I quickly reminded myself I never wanted to be a Black Mage. I hated the cold; I ended my short _reprieve_ in Coerthas and never looked back.

There was no cause to take offense.

The chocobo squawked obnoxiously and his owner jerked his head up. I looked in the direction he peered and noticed groups of Sapsa spawning over the horizon. They made a straight line for the caravan.

"Well it looks like ya gots the chance to prove yerself. Defend us adventurer or ya would'f wasted yer gil on this journey."

That was not quite the hero's call I expected when I left Ishgard. I had only ever been told the outside world was harsh and not as developed or advanced as my homeland Orthard, with mobs of creatures attacking caravans and innocent passersby without warning. I realized now why they were called Fates. Instantaneously, I felt overwhelmed and wondered if I would survive.

The other passengers started a little but did not panic as they quickly gathered their things and made a quick escape behind a boulder formation we had passed not a moment ago. I expected them to scream in terror and run in an unorganized fashion, but the harsh lives they lived must have taught them how to stay focused and protect themselves in situations such as these.

Too quickly I was alone and found myself facing dozens of Sapsa. In my old guild books, Sapsa were colorfully illustrated and almost seemed like whimsical people of the sea. Now, too close for my comfort, they appeared more like water demons.

I realize now that the chocobo must have stopped walking because it sensed this impending danger and not because his owner was going on about my chant.

Thunder struck the first Sapsa Shelfspine and the remaining descended upon me. I was already casting through my fire rotation when I felt the first sliver of my life escape me. There were five mobs attacking me with dozens more spawning and running towards their cohort.

I was going to die here.

My last thought was that of irony. I had always wanted to be a White Mage.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	2. Entry 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Rook, Entry #2**

The Sapsa fell back stunned at a bright flash of light. One flew over my head into the nearby boulder pile behind which cowered the passengers who fled earlier. Another flash of cornea-piercing light made me feel dizzy.

There was no doubt in my mind that my current condition was due to my terribly formed party composition. I could hardly keep up with my own attack spells before even considering to pull out my Conjurer's wand. And to add to my impossible situation there was no sanctuary nearby where I could safely prepare my mind for healing.

I felt an arm tug on mine urging me to stand. I was thankful for the company no matter what discipline they practiced. And from the way he handled those creatures, I was confident we stood a chance against them.

The first Cure I felt was a relief. I was on the upswing and gaining my energy back by the second. Whoever this healer was, I owed him my life.

We quickly dispatched the remaining Sapsa and before I could turn to kneel in gratitude he was already trying to teleport from whence he came!

He had his back turned and I could see that he must have been a Hyur given his stature. Knees almost to his chest, I ran over and gently touched his shoulder.

The healer stood straight. The cane on his back was exotic. I had never seen a healing cane so intricately crafted save on those guildmasters and champions of Eorzea. This White Mage possessed a very powerful weapon. He no doubt crafted it from his last victory. The split-second before he turned to face me I examined the architecture of the crest and recognized it was of Allagan origin. An object right out of the Allagan museum itself.

On his shoulders was the proof that he triumphed through the trials of Bahamut, an Allagan coat of healing.

"Well come, sir. Were it not for your timely entrance, I would have surely been a trophy for those amphibians." I mustered up the best smile I could without showing my fangs.

He turned on his heel with a hand proffered.

She was the darkest skinned Roegadyn I could have possibly fathomed. She! With eyes the color of a red-hued somber sunset, her straight face only gave a look of impatience and intolerance.

As if I was the target of her stun, I was frozen in confusion.

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to me once more. She made eye contact with the passengers of the long since forgotten chocobo carriage and stalked towards them. Taking the cane off her back and raising it slightly above her head, she gestured stiffly in charity.

Offering healing or a comforting presence? Though I had my doubts she would have been capable of the latter. I had never seen a Roegadyn healer, much less a female Roegadyn healer. They were not known to me for their art of essence regeneration.

She made her way back over to me. Her gait was uncharacteristically controlled, probably remnants from her enlistment in one of the Grand Companies, though I was not keen enough to guess which one. What were they again? Fires, Snakes, and Pirates?

She was before me in an instant and it was then I realized she was small. Tiny, I would say had I not been raised to be polite.

She placed her cane on her back and locked eyes with me as she put her hands on her hips. In anticipation?

I struggled to find my voice. "You have my gratitude." I prided myself on my language, thankful that "You are rather dark and short and quiet and misclassed for a Roe," did not burst forth.

Silence.

The healer pulled a whistle from her coat flap and blew into it softly. A brilliant steed appeared moments later with an illuminated mane and tail. Electricity crackled at its hooves and I jumped back to avoid being shocked as it strode up to us. It was the most vibrant shade of violet my eyes had witnessed and for once outside of Ishgard there WAS something I could consider beautiful.

"I seek the one they call Rook, he is one of The Final Witnesses. May I bother you to point me in the right direction? I am afraid this caravan will not be set to leave until the 'morrow. And I am loathe to wait for these creatures to spawn again."

She urged her steed into slow trot and headed towards what I assumed was a settlement in the distance. I could barely see the blue of the aetheryte above tall white stone walls. That must be the entrance to Limsa Lominsa!

The pace the mute White Mage set was one I could easily keep up with on my own two feet. I set to follow her after I put my own staff away.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	3. Entry 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Stormlady, Entry #3**

"Is there another language of this realm you speak?" I asked her in every dialect I was versed well enough in and even some I clearly wasn't.

Not a word came from her lips. Truly she was mute!

We had already entered Limsa and once her steed was dismissed she took to walking by vendors and purchased a few wares. A Hyur and Lalafel approached us, both with quite the attitude and spoke hurriedly to her. Gil and items exchanged hands before they made a brisk departure from us. Neither one seemed to notice my presence nor the world around them. It was purely a business interaction.

I wanted to remind this healer of my objective but how would I communicate? She lacked the ability to speak and I, the gumption to press the issue further.

"Mine eyes hath bourne what only a coeurl could drag in. May it not pass thine lips that this be the lad I have sold apprenticeship to." The voice was loud and boomed in my ears. The body it belonged to was tall and slender.

The Roegadyn crossed her arms and shot daggers at him with her eyes.

The lithe Elezen man bowed before me in a display I could only describe as mock reverence.

"Heuloix, Phoishaunt Heuloix. Well met."

I returned the gesture in earnest. I had much to learn and could not squander it on my pride.

"Master Rook, I am Enkhtuyaa Kuhkol hailing from Ishgard."

Humor surfaced in my Master's eyes. He then turned to the Roe and laughed in earnest. She only rolled her eyes, a gesture I learned was synonymous with displeasure.

"Au'Ra are indeed astute, thou hast assured me of this fact. Give me reason why he fails in comparison."

The Roe shrugged.

"One thousand gil it takes him 'til the morrow to catch up."

The Roe held up her thumb, index, and middle fingers. One by one she folded them into her palm.

"Three minutes. I dost believe in miracles lest Bahamut would have ruled this realm again. Thine hope is ill-placed to believe three minutes time is enough." Heuloix gestured me to follow him. She followed behind me.

A moment later we were traveling down a stone path spiraling down a tower. The room we entered was littered with tattered books and remnants of crafts. A myriad collection of crystals hung from the ceiling reflecting the light leaking in from outside. "Primitive technology," I mutter under my breath. A truly primitive existence indeed. A wooden chair sat well-worn in the corner beside a cot just as ragged.

The only impressive characteristic of this hovel was the enormous desks that ran along the walls. Though, those too had books covering them. 'Impressive' was too strong of a word, perhaps 'surprising' was my intended meaning.

The Roe ventured behind the desk and pulled out a wand. There was nothing special about it, though it looked perfectly preserved from the tree it was whittled from. She walked over to me and thrust it in my hands and waited once more with anticipation.

I turned to my new Master to gather the meaning of her gesture. The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a smirk and he pointed to his back.

He did not carry a weapon. This entire encounter I had not seen him touch one, let alone sport one on his person.

Heuloix pointed his hand towards the Roe in some crude impromptu introductory stance. She stood once more with her hands at her hips.

"My, my. The case of mistaken identity has come to a head. Dare I say, hast thou come to the correct conclusion? To append my earlier self-introduction, my name is Heuloix, assistant to Mistress Athulla. The one they call Rook, a White Mage."

No sound would come forth from my mouth which hung ajar.

"Enkhtuyaa, one of thy position would be inclined to make a good impression on one of those who bested the very first incarnation of Bahamut. Were it not for her intrepid effort and that of her party, this would quite literally be a different world. If thee wish be to take up the conjury arts, ye attitude best change."

She was so tiny, ill-suited for combat. So dark, so quiet, so unassuming, it must have been a prank that was performed at my expense.

I traveled to become a White Mage, not the subject of mockery.

"Mistress Athulla assures thee that no mistake has been made. There exists only two Rooks. One of the cane and one of the book. And the Scholar would have no interaction with the likes of thee. Not all of The Final Witnesses took so…eagerly to the request of a learner. It is by luck ye stand here in this capacity."

The Roe said not a word, but Heuloix conversed as if she had.

This is all terribly wrong. I refused to employ a female Roegadyn as my next mentor. They knew nothing of healing and to my knowledge were not exactly known for their patience.

"What origin of name is Athulla? It is of neither clans of this land. This is a farse, one I aim to report to the proper authorities."

With that spat from my recovered mouth, I stormed out of the sadly begotten bureau and towards the nearest guard I could find.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	4. Entry 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Inquisitor, Entry #4**

Othard had long since fallen to the Garlean Empire. My story was as old as time, a story that would fall from the lips of any refugee. I remember little of Doma, save the overwhelming images of the Garlean occupation burned into the back of my skull. I blindly followed the remaining members of my clan and made passage to The Holy See of Ishgard. The years following my escape were difficult, but I did what was required of me to make a comfortable existence. I was enrolled in a Thaumaturge guild back home and so I sought to continue the art.

Once proving my abilities to my first mentor, I was quickly honored with the job of Black Mage. Ishgard did not have many Black Mages and the demand warranted my presence. Most of my people had been indoctrinated into the Ishgard Orthodoxy Church and were knighted by King Thordan. Our race was seemingly built for the protection Ishgard needed.

I rarely celebrated physical violence and I slowly became uncomfortable with lobbing fireballs at foes. I dared not to speak my displeasure; for changing my job, after much training and time invested, was unheard of.

The Machinist guild had a few requests for simple tasks and so I made a show of accepting a couple and bringing back items they listed. None of their art appealed to me. The technology was intriguing and the damage skills brought to comprehension why The Holy See would endorse such a guild. As much as I could not continue the artistry of Fire and Ice, I lacked the aptitude for precision aim and gadgeteering. I knew as much from my days of Archery.

Fire never had to be accurate. Party beside you, enemy before you – there was no need to aim anywhere but forward.

My luck did not change when I inquired within the Astrologian's guild. I could not help my resentment towards beings who placed their spells and skills so blatantly within the hands of chance. Stars, space, and cards did little to help my clansmen back in Othard. I could not become a chance healer.

Though what made my experience with the Astrologians burrow so deep in my head was their acceptance of my wanting to learn the healing arts. I returned at once to my mentor and expressed my thoughts. I was done practicing as a Black Mage. He simply sent me to Limsa to seek out one of the most powerful healers he knew.

Which was why I was here, currently engaging a Maelstrom guard, a Storm Corporal? I was not well-versed in the rankings of Grand Companies. Ill-remembered lessons from my mentor, I chided myself. Such a thing to recall at a time I never thought I would need to, which was ever in the remainder of my existence.

"The two villains remain in that hovel down the towerside. I am in need of assistance from your regiment." No creature honestly had the time to remember these sorts of things. Save the members of the Grand Companies themselves. Remembering Blizzard after my eighth Fire and before Thunder was enough to concern myself with when I practiced with my mentor. The more lackluster lessons came when the topic shifted to the settlements southwest of Coerthas.

"I shall have a Warrior escort you. What are the charges of the accused?" The Hyur was gruff-sounding and short with his words. There was a line beginning to lengthen behind me, I surmised it was out of necessity that he be quick and cater the next person in line.

"Fraud."

"Tell me again lad, what was your intention with these two citizens? My report must be thorough," he scribbled quickly on a pad lying on the table between us. He never rose his head to make eye-contact.

A stalwart Roegadyn male clad in Warrior's garb strode up to the two of us. The Maelstrom Command was a busy network of ranked soldiers and huntsman. It was no surprise my words made their way beyond the lobby with haste.

"I was seeking the tutelage of a White Mage. I made arrangements before I traveled here. I paid a behemoth's weight in gil to my would-be mentor in exchange for guidance in the art of conjury." My voice went up an octave in self-righteousness. My 'when-I-grow-up' fund was started way back when I first ventured to Ishgard. I worked hard for that sum and when I figured out what I wanted to do with my life…

"Aye lad, aye," he waved his hand dismissively. "Here we have Chief Storm Sergeant to escort you to the scene of the crime. Do not depart from his side. Once your business is finished you will return here and sign the proper documents. The Sergeant here will bring in the culprits and there will be trial held for you in the 'morrow. Justice will be yours. The Maelstrom and her affiliates do not take kindly to miscreants nor their mischief."

"I will see to it this squall is settled, sir." The Warrior motioned for me to follow him. I was doubtful his massive form would be needed for any more than intimidation, though a physical altercation was not out of the question. I was grateful for the one-sided nature that encounter would hold. Two-on-one appeared to be favorable odds for this enormous man.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	5. Entry 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Brother of Ash, Entry #5**

"The Roegadyn there and the Elezen standing not two yalms from her are the ones attempting to dup me out of my funds." I pointed to the pair speaking around one of the ends of the desks in the room.

The Warrior looked at me incredulously. "Please explain the charges ye bring against these two, sir."

"My good man," there was no more need for pleasantries. "Tell me how am I to believe that this individual is the Master I seek?! I came here to find the White Mage that fought in the Final Coils of Bahamut, not a Roegadyn too short to reach even your own shoulders!"

"I say! The gall of this demon! On what dare did you find the nerve to make such accusations?!" The Elezen man stepped forward in front of the female Roegadyn. She placed a hand on his shoulder and grinned.

The Warrior approached the healer and punched her lightly in the shoulder. Or what I had assumed was lightly for her entire form shook and she lost her balance.

"Mmm, well unfortunately she's got father's stature. Takes more after his side of the family. I figure that's why she likes to play with canes and wands. Esmii, what have ye done to this poor gentleman?"

Speechless did not encompass the state of my mind.

The healer quickly swept her cane upside the head of the Warrior. He did not flinch. I don't think he even felt it.

The deep laugh of the Warrior drug me out of my stupor. I finally found my words again.

"She is your kin?"

"Who would not be proud to have her as a sibling? Quite famous I hear," at this he pat her shoulder, gentler this time. At least she did not rock to and fro. "She said were it not for her, the Jellyfishmen would be feasting on yer flesh tonight. Are you not a Black Mage?"

"You do not mean…," certainly there could not have been truth to this man's words. Ignoring the insult to my job, I waited for an explanation.

"Yes ye insolent, disrespectful buffoon. I have sold her services to thou. Ye would do well to show her the utmost respect. 'Lest ye want the sum of thou travel and apprenticeship returned and ye back to the land from whence thee came."

I did not have the fortune to consider any part of that an option.

The healer motioned with her hands and it was at that point the other two men turned to watch her intently.

"Mistress Athulla wishes to express that she has taken no offense to your…enlightening performance. Though she is curious as to why thou desires to become as well-studied as she. She could not ascertain one iota of conjury within thee. Why, she gave thee a wand crafted by her own hand and the only respect ye paid was to see it thrown to the ground and trampled."

"Sister, am I to assume all is well then?" The Warrior looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

Another flutter of her hands and the Warrior gave a deep chuckle.

"Is that alright Phoishaunt?"

The Elezen man rolled his eyes in a fashion mirroring the healer's. He walked towards a cauldron and rifled through the shelving around it. Several containers were opened and closed and organized by some system unknown to me.

"Bear, I have not the stores to feed a soldier such as thee. Send ye errand boy to fetch a barrelful and perhaps then I shall be able to prepare ye a snack. Firewood too, we have need of it."

The healer, Mistress Athulla, pat her brother's arm and used all the strength she could muster to budge him towards the door.

"Boy, fetch some pineapple ponzecake for dessert. It will be ye peace offering to her. It be her favorite. Assist Chief Storm Sergeant with the rest of tonight's meal." Heuloix spoke to the Warrior directly, "Will your commanding officer let ye stay for supper this night? Mistress truly has missed you, it has been many moons since ye sat to break bread with us."

"She knows as well as I that me and my Company are kept busy. There is never a dull moment. Ye never convinced her to come back Phoishaunt," at her brother's words, the healer narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.

"I am an expert in linguistics only. Well, the art of communication and culinary. There is naught convincing I could do to make her do anything beyond what she has set her mind to. Now, don't let the lad find himself in any trouble. Yer sister agreed to care for him. There aren't many of his kind 'round here."

The Rook picked up the wand she crafted and walked it over to my hands. Catching the hint, I placed it gently within my robe flaps and give her a weak smile. It was more out of nervousness that my lips quivered.

"Come lad, take this quest and prove yerself." We both left the bureau with haste.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	6. Entry 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Sister of Ash, Entry #6**

"Sir?" My voice came out smaller than I intended. I could not fathom the reason why I was still here.

"Bear's just fine lad. Though don't take to calling me sister by her given name. She'll ring ye dry. Out of all of us she got the meanest streak. Most evil vendetta I e'er did see."

I said nothing. There was nothing I could say. I was still in shock. It would take some years for me to become a great White Mage. All of that time between I had to spend it with Mistress Athulla, one who had seemingly earned the title of Rook. She could not even speak! What a Mage! Speaks not a word yet can cast some of the most power spells known. Or at least she was purported as such.

"'Tis lucky ye came to Command. I'm 'fraid anyone else would'f imprisoned ye for bringing such blasphemous charges against one of our own. Lucky too I guess since I'm not a hard arse." He looked at me expectantly with a light in his eyes. He had the same eyes as Mistress Athulla and I could see now the kin resemblance.

"Out of all of you?" I felt that was a safe question to ask. The man seemed to like talking about his family and he and the White Mage seemed to have a good relationship albeit stressed by his position in the Maelstrom.

"Aye, Rhitgeim be the oldest. She an' Esmii share the same rank. Well if the nugget remained with the Maelstrom the pair would'f made great Second Storm Lieutenants. But Rhit is a Warrior like meself." He searched my face for any confusion. He found plenty of it and continued on.

"Those two don't really see eye-to-eye. But Sko, her long name be Skoenrael, gets along just fine with her. Rhit, meself, Sko, and Esmii were born to me parents in that order. Sko chose to be a Monk making our family thrice proud when she was awarded her soul crystal," he sighed and took a deep breath looking out into the distance.

"She'll kill me for talking to ye like this. I can't help myself sometimes. When the rest of the town look at us I can't help but explain I wouldn't have it any other way. Now that my littlest sister done proven her worth in her own discipline, the world ain't got much to say. When she were born mum figured Esmii could'f been a Ninja or Dragoon, given that her small form would benefit her for stealth and jumping. But when she came home running with her short legs, wand in tow, I knew things for us would be even more difficult. She had promise as a Dragoon, but she left that practice to take up healing. Now I've come into the understanding that I wouldn't change any of it given the chance."

I nodded my head in acknowledgement.

"Beat me arse when we were kids with that lance, she did. I forgot what she told me convinced her to be a White Mage. Honestly, I just care she did. It suits her. The nugget smiles more now." Bear turned from me to ask a man if there would be passage across Skull Valley today. The man jerked his head in the direction of the docks. We continued walking.

"A White Mage saved me and my clansmen in Doma. I owe him my life. I knew not who he was nor where he hailed, but I pledged to do the world good and mend her ailments." It was not my intention to speak on the subject, but the Warrior was honest. I was grateful. I also wanted him to understand that my desire to become a healer was rooted in a substantial declaration. The vocation of restoration.

"A noble quest indeed! You expected Rook to be the man that saved ye years ago? That explains why yer britches were filled with salt. Well on no reason other than me own merit I can promise ye that me sister be the best yer gil could buy." Bear rubbed the back of his neck and offered me a grin, yet another feature he shared with his sister.

I could not offer him any words. I was too deep in my own thoughts.

We were patiently waiting for the Ferry Skipper to board enough passengers to make our way to the Isles of Umbra. At least, that is what Bear said. I honestly could not remember where we were going. 'Fetch supper' were the only instructions I knew before we were sent away. I did not listen well to the words. Admittedly, it was not an adventurer's quest, more like a tavern boy's errand. Not much to prove when you are sent to fetch sustenance.

"Bear, how am I to help you in this endeavor?" Did my training begin immediately? I was sure presently I might have only been able to cast Cure. But even then with the Warrior being experienced, immensely so, I doubted he would feel even a tickle.

"How do you mean lad?"

"Am I to sustain you while we collect meat or shall I help you as I am most proficient?"

"Aye lad, help me fry these things. Hastily. I am starved."

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	7. Entry 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Good Samaritan, Entry #7**

"Ye have not the patience of a saint. What proposal do ye have of convincing thee that thou can train this lad?" Phoishaunt queried.

The White Mage shrugged her shoulders and motioned with her hands.

"Mine thoughts art not congruent with thou Mistress. Have ye any luck and they might assist. Though a message will be sent. Ye will have notice if thou fellow adventures agree. The Bard might certainly pay ye this respect."

Her fingers went to work.

"Agreed Mistress, he does sing the most wonderful of songs. Will it not be a bother to call upon him again?"

She shook her head.

"Very well. What of your Scholar counterpart. Surely ye think otherwise? What with ye ever-so-colorful description of him. 'Crotchety raisin man who witnessed Hydaelyn's birth'? Dost thou believe he will answer thou call?"

The Roegadyn gave the Elezen a knowing look.

"Dare I say ye father would be proud to see such an adventurer before him. Thou do his practice proud. Like father like daughter ye suppose?"

She made a shape with her hands as her eyebrow raised in query.

"There is not a doubt the two will return with something delicious. Though Bear has a palate for just about anything that be not his own flesh, I hear Au'Ra are quite skilled in culinary delights. Though this be the only trust I place in him until ye convince thee his worth rivals more than just any fetch hand. Take the boy with ye to Pharos. Ye never mind to clean the dungeon out. It be quick enough not to require respite. Thou can make haste and return within the same day."

Phoishaunt watched his Mistress' hands make careful, yet exaggerated motions.

"Would ye not trust the lad? Thou dare not let the party fall prey to any threat. Ye can stand this once to relinquish thou control over all things living. Perhaps he be not the only one with a lesson to learn?"

He rose to take the chair beside her.

"Given all things Mistress, ye too once stumbled through adversity. As thou would remember correctly, Kan-E-Senna and company were not too keen on you intruding in their practices. Though a chance ye found granted. Can ye not afford the same courtesy?"

The White Mage rolled her eyes and held her arms open wide.

"Agreeing to teach the lad the discipline be quite different from becoming a mentor. Would ye have a plebian associated with all ye have worked hard to create? 'O, damn this Au'Ra and his inability to cast Cures properly. And here I thought he was a student of Mistress Athulla, I expected greater skill and prowess'," Phoishaunt mocked in an accent not his own.

She blew air through pressed lips.

After some time she rose from her chair and reached for a leather bound tome from the shelf in the wall. A quill and ink were produced by her assistant, to which she dipped her head quickly in gratitude. She began to print meticulously on the first page within the empty tome and addressed her mentee.

 _Enkha,_

 _Shall you ever find yourself derelict in your duties, do not hesitate to look upon this tome to facilitate your recollection._

 _You forever henceforth are a hero to the people of Eorzea, a sacrifice made none too lightly unto Hydaelyn to do her will as a protector of this realm._

 _In such capacity, I bestow unto you all of my knowledge forthwith so that you may continue a legacy of White Mages whom are accomplished similarly and hath performed admirably._

 _E. Athulla_

She leaned to the side to allow Phoishaunt to read behind her.

"Valiant start! May ye inspiration never wane," Phoishaunt complimented with a quick pat to her shoulder.

The Roegadyn continued to spread the ink lavishly with the nib of her quill.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**


	8. Entry 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **Business Associate, Entry #8**

Enkhtuyaa studied the Roegadyn before him and considered his choice of words before speaking. He felt the only one left out the joke. He made up his mind though that his quest would not end until he tired of these games. Certainly after a while he'd see the truth of it all.

How did it come to pass that the Elder Seedseer allowed Mistress Athulla to practice conjury? Beyond obviously being an outsider, surely her...oddities made it that much more difficult. Along that line of thinking, he wondered how he was to communicate and learn himself. It seemed the most obvious hindrance to him, yet everyone got along despite it.

Enkhtuyaa thought to himself that perhaps it would be the same way he was to take up the practice. By the hands of someone patient and understanding. Someone inclusive and not at all turned by one's appearance or handicaps.

How possibly the White Mage would fare to his charge yet remained to be seen.

He sighed into his hands, propping himself against the port bow. This was becoming an adventure where one best enjoy the journey rather than the destination. For it would be quite some time before he could call himself a healer. And an even longer time before he accepted the means of it.

"Bear, has your sister no tongue to speak?" He would have denied it if the Warrior noticed how he held his breath.

"Yer concern be valid lad, though I'm not sure what affirming the evident accomplishes," Bear looked over his shoulder at the Au'Ra with a mix of pity and amusement.

"My apologies, I only aimed to understand the terms of my apprenticeship."

"No tart feelings," the Warrior turned to look out at the strait. He seemed lost in his own head, but recovered before the Black Mage could press the matter. "I never once heard her voice in the entirety of our lives. Quite the model babe me mum often said."

"Pray, refrain from taking offense at my words. I am unsure how I can best take advantage of my tutelage if-"

Bear made a noncommittal noise. "If yer luck find ye quickly, she might take ye on a primal run. Damn beast tribes never quit at it. Though I can't make complaints about a steady source of income. Best I were ye, concentrate on yer studies lad. The rest will come. Now, prepare yerself. I won't make ye heal, but best be damned fry something by me side."

"Yes, sir," Enkhtuyaa took the hint and tucked his thoughts away another time. Surely it would come to a head once his real training began. Bear was right, he was lucky to have found a mentor, lucky to have some sort of employment, lucky to be right where he was. No use in poking questions at the lot of it. Though a 'primal run' stoked the curiosity burning in him.

The Black Mage and the Warrior emerged from the skiff and thanked the sailor with a bit of coin in hand.

"Esmii'll shock the sense outta me if we do something dumb. Stick close and let me take all the aggression from these mobs. Don't get too outta hand with ye fireballs, they'll take notice and set to skin ye alive."

They sauntered up the shore as gracefully as one could in boots on shifting sands. The Warrior tossed his axe in an arc and caught it on the rebound. One Preying Mantis twitched its head in their direction and let out a cry. Immediately it skittered towards them with six others in tow.

The Warrior continued to toss his axe around until he had gathered about ten or so of the creatures.

"This should be enough for ye Black Mage, gimme one last show of yer handiwork before you abandon it," The Warrior encouraged.

The Black Mage gave a smirk before fire poured from his rod and quickly surrounded the mobs. Within two short casts they were all scorched and wisps of black smoke were reaching towards the sky.

"Hmm, perhaps we should rethink our strategy, lest we drag home charcoal delights. Phoishant hates the way it tastes. Honestly, there isn't much to put with a dish like that save some beer. Beer goes with everything!" Bear laughed pointing to another destination with a gathering of Mantises.

Enkhtuyaa also gave a short chuckle and side stepped as he turned on his heel to follow.

He tripped over a smooth, waist-height rock and groaned. More from embarrassment than from pain.

The Roegadyn rushed over to him pulled him back.

"Ayyy lad what did I just say about ye?! I pick at the mobs! Now you've gone and aggravated this thing. It looks like a Rank B Mark. It probably has a bill on its head back in town. It don't like ye one bit, ye make it vibrate with fury."

Bear made to pull Enkhtuyaa behind him, but the Black Mage would not budge.

"Lad, have ye no understanding of me words? This Rank B ain't no joke. Just the two of us? Nay, just meself and ye as a green healer could not survive this. Mayhaps we could within an inch of yer life, but it's not worth the dice roll."

Bear had absolutely no doubt in his mind he could kill this creature without harm.

Had it been just himself.

However with the Black Mage almost assuming all the threat from the Mantises, Bear could not guarantee the Dark Helmet would not follow suit and attack the young Au'Ra. A couple of hits at best he could survive before he found himself unconscious. And well, Bear was not his sister. Nor did he wish to answer to her upon returning.

Before either of the adventurers could make their moves, the Dark Helmet used its pincers to thrust at the Black Mage.

Enkhtuyaa quickly parried the attack with his rod, stepped back, and began casting once more. He looked to the Warrior before he released the Thunder.

"I've never had crab before," he said with a smile behind his words.

* * *

 **I thrive well with constructive criticisms, so please review :)**

 **These are planned to be small (less than a 1,000 words) excerpts so that I do not run into the issue where I cling to a passage for dear life because it had not reached my desired length. As such, these will be updated more frequently.**

 **I am also looking for a Beta to help edit and PC my fiction. The world is so big (and no one pays attention to EVERY story quest we're forced to play ;] )**

 **MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**


	9. Entry 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIV [FFXIV] or any part of the franchise. It is the property of Square Enix and its associate affiliates and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought.**

 **This is fiction and is a derivative work based on the world of FFXIV. No profit was made from this work.**

 **Unless of course you include the joy I derive from writing and storytelling.**

* * *

 **The Howling Eye, Entry #9**

"One thousand gil says the boy passes out," the Dragoon spoke out loud. His voice carried despite his stature and the deafening gale sucking the volume from everyone's voice. The place they had come was a wind whipped stage with naught else around than walls of turbulent air and stripped grass.

"A thousand more says he'll be in worse shape than that." The Ninja simply twirled her daggers in her hands not making eye contact with anyone in the party.

Their concern no doubt came from a place of sincerity, however I could not rid myself of the feeling that they were mocking me at my expense.

"Have you ever joined a full party my child? Quite different than a group of four. A tad more overwhelming I'm afraid," the Black Mage simply pat my shoulder, out of pity, I was sure. She seemed a tad friendlier than the others who only graced me with a quick glance when my mentor was making introductions. Or it might have been because as an Elezen she was my height and could deign such gestures.

"Esmii, pray yer attentions be focused on me. Eadred can self-sustain and take Garuda and Suparna." The Warrior had introduced himself as Keen. I was not sure he would even speak to me. His words now affirmed that he was anxious about my conjuring abilities. He wasn't the only one.

"Selfish _and_ lacking confidence that we will be victorious Keen?" The Paladin, who called herself Eadred, gave me a thin smile then shoved the Warrior in the shoulder.

"I will not be in Defiance. I anticipate to fell this beast quickly. Esmii knows that I only mean to be rid of this duty posthaste." Keen pulled out his axe and swung it in a halfhearted arc.

"Without offending your charge, we hope to down Garuda before the sun sets, collect our bounty, and enjoy our night at the tavern," Eadred clarified for me. Keen was determined not to let this Trial take up too much of his time. I only hoped I could oblige and not make an embarrassment of myself.

"Alright lad, you prepared to make a full party? We're wasting time poking fun at you." This was the Bard that spoke up and I only knew that because Mistress Athulla introduced him as such. I couldn't see his weapon or his instrument and he hadn't volunteer his name.

"No time such as the present for new experiences. I say let us be done with it so that we may retire early tonight." I would have easily mistaken Ofrent's light gestures for flirting if it wasn't known that I was formerly a Black Mage. I knew that she was just eager to show off her skills and compare abilities once we were done. Who knows, maybe that _was_ flirting for wielders of fire and ice.

Unbeknownst to me, the seven of them had already joined minds. I ventured a guess that they were communicating telepathically, though having seven other beings in one's own mind gave me pause.

"Take a deep breath, it can be a lot at once. It is best to remain quiet and attentive, but do not let the voices distract you." Ofrent's words were soft as my Mistress approached and touched a finger to my temple.

My mind was then a sea of emotion and words and loud compulsions and differing personalities. More like a soup of those, since I felt that I could not grasp onto one feeling or string of consciousness that slipped through. My privacy felt invaded and I was incapable of plugging up the sieve of my deeper confessions. I transmitted how I felt and what I thought and my impressions of everyone around me. I could not control what came into my mind nor what bled from it. A voice, that I could not attribute to any of the party I had just met, swam through the fog of my mind.

"Enkha, you are floundering as you would in freezing waters. You must center your concentration on my voice. Prioritize what it is that you hear and think. Separate your own thoughts from the party's. Recognize from whence these originated and filter accordingly. Cling to the sound of my words if you feel lost." And from that voice was an intensity of character that was overwhelming. Perhaps it was because she made no corporeal sounds of her own and this last fortnight spent in her company had me used to her hand movements as the essence of who she was but, I realized in that moment I had severely misunderstood her being. Again. The parts of my mentor that were missed and had me believing that she was unfeeling and robotic, were actually present in her _soul_. Or at least, that was how I could best describe it.

"You need not say what you do not want, nor hear what you wish not to. Hold onto your sense of self and control your mind," I couldn't _hear_ what Esmii was saying, I could _feel_ it. It _felt_ like instinct, like a reaction, like an autonomic response.

I also felt apprehension, humor, embarrassment, exasperation, and affection amongst a myriad of other fleeting emotions that tumbled into and disappeared from my consciousness. I heard snickers, chuckles, words of pity and encouragement. I did not know what was me or coming from me. It all felt like my own mind.

"Enkha, you must listen to me. MOVE!" Loud and booming, Esmii's insistence shocked me from my stupor. Had I just stood here the entire time trying to comprehend all that transpired around me?

Keen was lifeless on the ground beside me in a yellow circle of magic, an attack from the beast. I quickly ran to escape but it clipped my foot as I jumped and I was knocked down to the ground. I didn't feel whole but I could tell that was no one's priority when I heard, _felt_ , Esmii's words.

"Lu, tank Chirada, I must Raise Keen. Enkha you must heal Lu while I am raising him."

Keen slowly rose to his feet and snarled "Gods damn you."

"Keen, not now. Take Chirada across the field," the Bard shouted with haste. Ire bled from Keen in thick rivers. I felt the beginnings of reticence creeping into me and it was abundantly clear that it was my own. Keen had fallen and we were in the middle of battle. The party wore fierce faces, but what was going on in their minds was a jumbled mess of regret and amusement.

The party recovered and Garuda fell. They gathered, exhausted and ready to teleport back.

"Pray tell, just what possessed you in battle? Did you not see that towering beast preparing to attack?" Keen came barreling towards me as we were preparing to return to the tavern. "This was a mistake. Never since the first time we fought this beast have we had such trouble! This be the last time I adventure with Esmii or her green twig."

Esmii used her Fluid Aura to shove Keen off his path. Keen was brought to his knees, he threw a threatening glance at her. He clenched his fist and struck the ground, then slowly rose to his feet.

"Keen's got some unresolved emotion when it comes to Esmii and Narron. He trained her brother you know? He's a mighty fine Warrior. Not too great with anything else. Please forgive him for his outburst. His rage is not directed at you personally. It is the only way he can take out his dissension on Esmii." Eadred grabbed me by the arm and urged me to the teleport.

"Are they not on good terms?" I asked without realizing what exactly I had inquired after. Her hand was tight around my arm.

"Not when Narron is around, no." The Paladin looked at him pityingly. "Come, you need something to drink while I droll on about my friends."

Esmii, Keen, and the Bard stayed behind.


End file.
